


I'm Right Here With You

by maridel_organa_hardeen



Series: Loki Reader Inserts [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Big Brother Thor (Marvel), Caretaker reader, Caretaking, Comfort, Delirium, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fever, Fever Dreams, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki Gets a Hug (Marvel), Loki Whump, Love Confessions, Poor Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert, Sick Loki (Marvel), Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, Star Wars mentioned because I can't help myself, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, fever whump, just really fluffy, no beta I WILL DIE LIKE A MAN, no y/n, or a girl, that doesn't really know what she's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29632239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maridel_organa_hardeen/pseuds/maridel_organa_hardeen
Summary: When Loki falls ill with a high fever, Thor asks you to sit with him.Then you catch a cold, and Loki overreacts.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki Reader Inserts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194635
Comments: 10
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the one word prompt 'delirium' from Whumptober 2019. Is it February 2021? Yes. Do I care? Not in the slightest. I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it.  
> I have no beta, or, rather, I am my own beta, so all mistakes are entirely my own.

"Please wake up. I have a message for you. Please wake up." 

You groaned and rolled over. 

"Go 'way," you mumbled into your pillow. It was too early to get up, and whoever it was could wait. Jarvis, it seemed, did not agree. He kept on repeating your name in an insistent tone, gradually growing louder. You opened an eye to look at the clock. 

Five in the morning. Nobody should need you this early, unless there really was something wrong. Sighing defeatedly, you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Thor asks that you come to his apartment as soon as possible. It seems that he needs your assistance."

"Tell him I'll be there in just a minute." You dug through your closet for some clothes and threw them on, tied back your hair, and jumped in the elevator. Something really had to be wrong for Thor to wake you up. 

He was standing by the door when you arrived.

"I apologise for waking you, but I needed someone, and you're the only one he likes, I didn't know who else to call, and he looks so bad, I've got to go-"

"Whoa, hang on. Hang on," you stopped him. This was not the Thor you knew. He was panicked, breathing hard, and babbling.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Loki." He took your arm and pulled you into his brother's bedroom.

You drew in a sharp breath.

The god of mischief tossed and turned on his bed, covered in a sticky sheen of sweat. To say that he was pale would have been an understatement- he looked almost transparent. His emerald eyes were hooded, and he was taking gasping, shallow breaths. Worst of all, he was muttering to himself in a frightened voice. 

"He's sick," Thor explained.

"I can tell. How long has he been like this?"

"I found him only a few minutes ago. He was crying out for us in his sleep. Please, will you stay with him?" He looked earnestly into your eyes. "I must go to Asgard and bring back medication."

"Shouldn't you just take him there?"

"I am not certain he could survive the trip in this state. Even if he were strong enough, the Allfather has banished him from our realm. It will be difficult enough to procure what he needs as it is. Will you please stay with him?" he begged.

"Of course, of course I will."

"Thank you! Thank you," he whispered, pulling you into a rib crushing hug. "You are the only one he cares for here."

You returned the hug, blinking in confusion. This was the first time you'd heard about Loki thinking any more of you than he did the rest of the people in the tower.

"I'll stay with him, don't worry. I can treat a fever, at least."=

"I will return as quickly as I can. Please, just- just stay with him." He choked a little on his words, then left to call Heimdall to take him home.

You looked around the room, wondering what to take care of first. Because of his fever, Loki must have turned up the heat, and now it was scorchingly hot in his room. After asking Jarvis to lower it, you tentatively sat down next to the Asgardian on his bed.

"Hey, Loki?" you began, gently stroking his shoulder. You expected no response. You didn't expect him to whimper.

He let out the most pitiful sound you could've imagined and cowered away from you.

"No, n-no, please- can't, ple-please, no more." He covered his face with his hand and curled into himself, trying to protect himself from… you?

"Hang in there, I'll be back in a second." You darted into the bathroom, rifled through a cabinet for a washcloth, and soaked it in the coolest water you thought he could stand. Quickly stepping back into Loki"s room, you resumed your place at his bedside.

"Honey, listen. It's me. You're safe- you're in the Avengers Tower. Thor went to Asgard to get some special medicine for you, and he asked me to sit with you while he was gone. Ok? Can you open your eyes for me?" You kept your voice low and kind, hoping you could bring him back to himself. 

He opened them, all the while making a frightened sound in the back of his throat. By the light of the bedside lamp, you could see his tears mixing with the sweat on his cheeks. 

"That's it. There, now, please don’t cry. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. You have a really high fever, and I need to bring it down. May I touch you, please?”

“Please, no, I-I’ll be good, don’t-” his mind wandered off again, terrorizing him with the demons of his past. 

You sighed, clutching the washcloth. Seeing him like this broke your heart. He needed to be loved, to be comforted, so badly, but when he didn’t even recognize you… If you could lower his fever, he would come back to himself, right? You were going to have to cool him down. Touching him was risky, but you hoped that if you were gentle enough you wouldn’t scare him too much.

Washcloth in hand, damp and cool, you reached toward him and dabbed at the sticky beads of sweat covering his forehead. He cried out, trying to pull away from you, thrashing with all his strength, but in his weakened state he couldn’t stop you. Suddenly, he went limp, giving up, and squeezed his eyes shut, tears flooding out the corners.

“Ple-” a heaving sob cut him off, tearing your heart in two. 

“‘Sokay, honey. ‘Sokay. Nobody’s hurting you, and nobody’s gonna hurt you, I promise,” you crooned, trying to soothe him. “I’m gonna keep you safe.” Miraculously, your words stemmed the flow of tears a little. You stroked his hair, tucking it to the side, and ran the washcloth over his face and down his neck. Continuing your ministrations, you wiped down his arms and hands, then noted that your washcloth was growing warm.

“I’ll be right back.” This time, you got a response: a small, tearful nod. You returned in a moment with another cold cloth to find him mumbling again, though not at you. You went back to trying to cool him down, trying to ignore what he was saying. He was vulnerable and afraid, and you didn't want to invade his privacy.

Finally, you'd run the washcloth all over his body, hopefully cooling him down, and removing the sticky sweat that had coated him. You draped the cloth over his forehead, then cupped his cheek with a hand. 

You'd always had cold hands- hands so cold that you could make even earth's mightiest heroes shriek when you brushed one against an arm or the back of a neck. Maybe it would help. 

He seemed to appreciate it, nuzzling into your touch, but then pulled back a little. It was as if he was unwilling to allow himself comfort. You pressed your hand close again, dragging your thumb against the edge of his cheekbone.

His muttering never stopped through all this, but none of it seemed to be directed at you, only to the monsters in his head.

You felt a tear of your own slip out, falling with a soft  _ thud _ onto the bed. You loved him so, so much. It had started as a simple infatuation with his looks, yes, but as you learned his history, if only the bare bones of the real, full story, you began to really love him. To love him for his bravery, his silent strength. To love him for his 'silver tongue', and how he used it to build and destroy. To love him for the simple reason that he needed to be loved so badly.

Yet here you were, unable to rescue him from his demons. You'd meant what you told him about keeping him safe, but could you, really? You wished desperately that you could give him a fever reducer, but between being unsure of how it would react with whatever Thor was trying to bring, and not knowing what dosage would even have an effect on his physiology, you let it be. You'd done what you could, and now it was up to you to fulfill Thor's request: to simply stay with him.

Your thoughts drifted back to the rest of what Thor had said to you- something about Loki crying out in his terrified state for you along with Thor, and something else about you being the only one he cared for here. What did he mean by that? Foolishly, your mind ran straight to the explanation you wished was true, that Loki  _ cared _ for you. You dragged it back, forcing yourself to consider more plausible options. Surely, Thor only meant that his brother found you the last repulsive out of the other members of the team. Then, of course, there were these treasured few times the two of you had shared a conversation and a cup of tea…

Just as your brain was about to spiral into a vicious cycle of 'he loves me, he loves me not', a sharp cry of your name pulled you out of your reverie. 

"Not her! No! Me, take me, I'll do- I'll be good, be a good." His voice broke, and he thrashed around on the bed, sobbing wildly and tangling his feet in the bedsheets. The cloth fell off his brow and was flung to the floor in a flurry of panicked movement. He cried your name again, grief and terror raw in his voice.

"Please, please, n-don't, let her go, please, be good, b-be good." Harder tears, then, "Good  _ pet _ ! B-be a, be a good  _ pet _ , just let l-let her go."

You felt sick. So very sick. Pet.  _ Pet _ . You clutched at his shoulders, stilling his movements until only the tears and mumblings remained.

"Loki. Loki, I'm here. Sweetheart, look at me," you told him, trying and failing to keep the quiver out of your voice. Your tears dripped from your cheeks onto his. "I'm right here with you, honey, and I'm not gonna leave. Look at me?" you begged. It you could just pull him out of this one terror-

He opened his eyes. 

"That's it, love, that's it. See, I'm right here with you. You're safe. I'm safe."

Whispering your name, he reached up to brush at your face, as if he was afraid that you were an illusion.

"No-n-no blood? They didn't?"

"No blood," you assured him. "Not even a little bit. It was just a dream."

"They didn't!" Now his sobs were tears of joy.

You knew crawling into bed with him was risky. You might catch whatever it was that he had. He might get confused and kick you out. He might realize later and never speak to you again.

But you did it anyway.

You nudged him over a bit and laid down beside him, loosely wrapping an arm around him. He looked at you with wonder in his eyes and tried to move closer, but seemed to think better of it.

"'Sokay, honey, 'cmere." You held out your other arm and rolled onto your side, welcoming him. You didn't have to tell him twice.

He pulled himself closer and curled up against you, hiding his face. The hot salt of his tears wet your neck, and you tightened your arms around his back.

"You can cry, 'sokay. Go ahead. I'm right here." You ran your fingers through his damp hair. The motion was repetitive and calming, and eventually, his tears ran out. You pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I need to go get another cloth for your head.” 

“No, no, stay?” he pleaded, a light of fear starting to shine in his eyes again. You were the one keeping the terrors away.

“Your fever’s come down some, but if we can bring it down more, you’ll feel a lot better,” you bargained, “and if it goes back up, you’ll start dreaming again. Neither of us need that today, sweetheart.”

“Alright.” 

You pulled away, ran into the bathroom, and were back in a few seconds.

“There, I’m back.” You slipped back in next to him and laid the cloth across his forehead. He let out a little sigh of pleasure and leaned into your touch. Smiling, you went back to carding your fingers through his hair.

You stayed that way for a long time, wondering what all this meant. Would he still want you when he recovered? Would he hate you for seeing him like this? You pulled yourself back from your thoughts when you noticed that he hadn’t closed his eyes at all. He simply lay there, staring at the ceiling.

“Sweetheart? Why don’t you try to sleep? You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Can’t.” He shook his head.

“Why not? Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” He grabbed for your shoulders and held you tightly, or, at least, as tightly as he could. 

“Ok, ok. I’m not going anywhere. Why can’t you sleep?”

“I don’t want t-to wake up. Don’t want.. don’t want to go back.”

“What do you mean? Go back where?” Then it dawned on you. “Honey, I’m not a dream. I’m right here with you. Really.” You took his hand in yours and squeezed it, trying to ground him.    
“What you saw, people hurting you, that was the dream. You dreamed because you’re sick.” You took a deep breath. “I care about you, Loki. I wouldn’t lie to you. All I want is for you to be safe and happy and well. But you need to sleep, ok? I’ll stay right here with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, please, close your eyes? I’ll watch you, and if you start getting even a little upset, I’ll wake you. No more nightmares.”

“Alright.” He cuddled into you and shut his eyes. You rubbed slow circles into his back, stroked his hair, and eventually his breathing evened out, and he slept. 

Fortunately, you didn’t have to wake him. He slept peacefully, and soon your own eyelids started to grow heavy, then fell.

Thor wasn’t sure what he expected when he returned from Asgard with his brother’s medicine in tow, but it certainly wasn’t the sight before him. You lay on your side, Loki facing you and curled into your chest, your arms wrapped around him, his head on your shoulder. Unsure of what to do, Thor eventually decided that Loki’s medication was most important. He stepped over to the bed and shook your shoulder. He meant it to be gentle, tender, even, but he had still yet to learn his own strength.

You started awake, forgot you were half-under Loki, sat up, and accidentally slammed your elbow into his jaw. 

That woke him with a cry, the pain confusing him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, expecting more. He really was back in the Mad Titan’s lair. The beautiful, gentle dream-girl had lied, and here he was again, and they were going to hurt him more, and call him  _ pet _ in that voice, and he couldn’t get away, and-

“Hey! Hey, honey, ‘sokay. I’m still here, just like I said.” You pulled him back from the brink and wrapped your arms around him. Glaring daggers at Thor, you asked, “Was that really necessary?”

“I apologize. I intended to be more gentle. Loki, you’re awake!”

“Indeed,” came weakly, muffled by your shoulder.

“I brought back corallute nectar for you, but you do not appear to need it now.”

“His fever broke about an hour ago," you explained. "He's better, but you should probably still give him whatever that is."

"Very well. It can't hurt him." Thor held out a viral filled with a golden, glowing liquid. Loki took it and drank, coughing a little as he finished it.

"Thank you, brother."

"You are welcome. You should get more sleep. It always makes you drowsy."

The younger Asgardian nodded and started to lay back down. 

You fidgeted a little. You found yourself almost uncomfortable around Loki now that he had most of his wits about him again. 

"Well, um, call me if you need anything else. I'm always happy to help!" You barely kept yourself from giggling nervously.

"You are not staying?" Loki looked at you with disappointment plain on his features, and a touch of fear in his eyes.

"I'll stay, of course, if you want me to. I just figured, you know, since Thor is back…" you trailed off, unsure of what exactly you were trying to say.

"If you do not mind, I am certain that my brother would much rather you stay with him than I." Thor gave you a kind smile and left the room.

"Thank you," Loki said, in a voice close to a whisper.

"You don't have to thank me. I-I like taking care of you." You tried to keep your breathing even, but it didn't do much good.

He gave a small affirmative noise, then asked, "Would you… hold me, again?"

"Of course. C'mere." You opened your arms and pulled him close. "How's this?"

He responded by nuzzling closer and burying himself in your embrace as well as he could.

"Don't go, please," came a muffled request. 

"Of course, I won't. I'll always stay if you want me. I-" you began to tell him how you felt, but stopped when he pulled away to look you in the eye.

"Always?"

"Yeah, Loki. Always."

"Why?"

"Because… because I love you. Very much. And even if you don't love me, I'll always come when you need me." A tear sparkled in the corner of your eye. You were going to find out now.

Suddenly, he clutched at you, as if he feared you would disintegrate.

"You… you love me? Why would you love me?"

"Because you deserve it," you said simply. "You're good, and you've had too much bad. You deserve some good in return."

"I love you, too." His words came out in a rush. "I have, for months. But I'm so horrid I would never have thought you could ever think anything about me, in that way."

"You know," you replied in mock-thoughtfulness, "I don't think either of us are particularly smart." You smiled at him, a little shyly, and leaned into his touch when he reached to caress your cheek. 

"Might I kiss you?"

"Is whatever you've got communicable to mortals?"

"No."

"Then, yes. Please."

The corallute nectar tasted sweet and wild on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos make Loki smile! And I think we can all agree that that doesn't happen enough. So... feedback! If anyone would be interested, I would consider writing a second chapter of the reader being sick and Loki caring for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter, fluffy second chapter. There is an extremely blessed recording somewhere on YouTube of Tom reading 'She Walks in Beauty', so you should definitely give that a listen.  
> This is my first time writing Loki when he's not incapacitated, so let me now how I did!  
> I hope you enjoy! It makes me so happy to know that people enjoy the things I write.

"Love, are you sure you're comfortable?" Loki hovered by your spot on the couch.

"Mfine, Lo, quit fussing," you croaked.

You'd come down with a nasty cold the day before, and though you'd had worse, you'd still camped out on the couch, box of tissues by your side and remote in hand.

"Cmon and sit," you invited, shoving a few errant tissues and lozenge wrappers out of the way and patting the spot beside you. He quickly complied, drawing you close and draping an arm around your shoulders.

"You watched over me when I was ill. It's only fair that I do the same for you."

"I really do appreciate it, it's just that I'm not exactly delirious at the moment. Relax a little." You rested your head on his chest and sighed contentedly. 

"Very well." 

Suddenly, you pulled away from him and bent over double with a cough. He held out your water bottle to you, and you took a long, grateful drink.

"That didn't sound particularly fine."

"It's a cold. Mortals get them all the time."

"Did you take the medicine Dr. Cho sent for you?"

"Yes! Yes, Lo, I did. Please, I really am fine."

He eyed you suspiciously, clearly unconvinced.

"Would you like me to read to you?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, please!" You smiled, cuddling back into his side.

He conjured a book into his hand and began to turn pages, looking for something in particular.

"Ah, here it is. I was reading this volume of your midgardian poetry a few days ago, and this one reminded me of you." He took a breath, and, to your surprise, began to read one of your favorite poems.

"She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

"One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

"And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!"

"Oh, Lo," you breathed, "that was lovely! Where did you learn to read like that?"

"My mother was an avid reader. We would often sit together, and she would read to me, or I to her. She loved poetry most of all, though. She taught me to read it properly." His voice softened a little, weighted by the familiar pain of her loss.

"M sorry." You felt helpless to ease his hurt, but you reached out and held the hand that rested on your arm. "She'd be proud of you, you know?"

He grunted noncommittally and turned a few more pages.

"What book are you reading out of?"

"Hmm… something about romantic poets. Byron, Shelley, Keats," he listed off the back cover, "Poe, Wordsworth, Coleridge. I am surprised that your Shakespeare is not included in this volume. I was under the impression that he was one of the most famous midgardian romance poets."

"He is, but that book's specifically for poets that were part of the Romanticism movement, back in the early 1800's. They weren't necessarily centered on romance, more on romanticizing life and stuff… tell ya what, remind me to explain this when my throat doesn't feel like it's on fire."

"Alright. Would you like me to keep reading?"

"Yes, please."

"Let's see about this Poe fellow.

"It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

"I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

"And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

"The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

"But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

"For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

"It seems rather depressing," he commented. “As well as concerning. Does this imply that the author,” he cleared his throat, “slept with a corpse?”

"I don’t know,” you laughed “He was drunk and depressed and high most of the time. I still love his work, though."

"Hmm. Shall we try Keats next?"

*-*-*-*-*-*

You fell asleep about halfway through one of Shelley's odes, your head on Loki's chest. He continued reading for a few minutes longer, then succumbed to sleep himself, conjuring the book back to his nightstand and pressing a kiss to your tousled hair. 

He awoke an hour or so later with a flinch and a gasp, from a nightmare he couldn’t remember. He hated those, hated his body’s visceral reaction to terror, hated not knowing what had frightened him in the first place. Pulling you even closer, he took a deep, shaky breath and tried to calm his racing heart. He didn’t have those very often these days, thankfully. It seemed that you kept them away, as silly as it sounded. 

You stirred against his side, nuzzling your face into his shoulder with what he thought was an adorable little groan.

“Hello there,” he greeted, brushing a piece of hair out of your half-closed eyes.

“General Kenobi,” you muttered.

“Who? No, love, it’s me.” He cocked his head towards you and lifted your chin, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

“Star Wars, you know.”

“I do not recall any ‘General Kenobi’ in those films. Only, hm, General Solo, General Calrizan, and… oh, I forget the rest.”

“General  _ Calrissian _ . Wait- Tony and Nat and I only made you watch the first three! You haven’t seen the prequels.”

“If they are prequels, shouldn’t they be watched first?”

“No, because the middle three were made first, and then the first three back about twenty years ago, and now they’re making new ones. Just trust me. You watch four, five, and six, and then one, two, and three. And then you can watch the rest of all the new stuff they’re making.”

“You are aware that none of that makes sense?”

“That’s how it works. Sounds like we have a movie marathon incoming.”

“Very well. It seems like you mortals spend a great deal of time watching television during your illnesses.”

“That’s like, the best part. That and the food.” You narrowed your eyes a little. “Hey, Lo, are you ok?”

“Yes, love, why do you ask?”

“You look a little… off. Did something happen while I was asleep?”

“No.”

“For the ‘God of Lies’ you aren’t a particularly good liar.” You reached up to trace his cheek. “What’s wrong? Did you…” You thought for a moment, studying his face with a mischievous look. Then, your eyes softened, and you asked gently, “You had a nightmare, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry, honey. Can I do anything?”

“No, thank you, I’m alright.”

You tugged him down to you and gave him a simple, loving kiss, then peppered a few more over his cheeks and nose.

“I won’t say that didn’t help.” He smiled at you.

“You’d better not. I give the best kisses.”

“Indeed you do.”

“Hey, Lo?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you make me a grilled cheese?” 

“Why would you grill cheese?”

“No,” you laughed, “It’s a sandwich with cheese in it. Don’t worry about it. Would you make me a pbn’j?”

“A Pee Bee in Jail?” He was starting to get exasperated. “You want me to bring you the urine of an imprisoned insect?” he asked incredulously.

“No! No, no, it’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.You smear peanut butter on one piece of bread, and then you smear jelly on another one and smush them together.”

“You mortals and your odd names for food,” he sighed. “That does, however, sound like something I can manage. Bread, butter, and jelly?”

“ _ Peanut _ butter. Not… like, cow butter. It’s brown, and it should be in a jar in the pantry. The jelly’s in the fridge, so’s the bread.”

“Very well.” He extricated himself from your grip and made his way into the kitchen.

Aside from a good deal of clanging and banging, several cries of “ _ Norns _ this is sticky!”, and a bit of grumbling on the topic of the strange things mortals eat, the sandwich-making endeavor went off well, and he came back into the living room with two sandwiches.

“I thought I might as well try it.” he held a plate out to you. “It surprises me that you can even digest this.”

“Mh hmmn,” you garbled through a bite. “This is good! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

“Movie time?”

“Why not?”

And as he sat there, watching this strange little mortal lick a bit of jelly off the back of her hand, humming the theme song as the opening credits rolled, he was almost glad that he had fallen sick all those months ago. For you had told him the truth: you were still right there with him. And you always would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos make Loki smile! I smile too. I have a nice smile. Smiles?


End file.
